


Competition

by deerkota



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Begging, Double Penetration, Multi, Not Beta Read, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Tailgate, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, or is it lucky tailgate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerkota/pseuds/deerkota
Summary: Tailgate decides to let Cyclonus and Whirl interface him at the same time, and the two end up making it a competition.





	Competition

**Author's Note:**

> So I probably spent like an hour and a half on this so it's kind of rushed and I haven't read over it, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

He knew this wasn’t a good idea. Not that it didn’t feel  _ nice _ , but the two larger mechs’ stamina was something to be wary of, especially when it came to the two of them trying to impress. They had a sort of rivalry between them, which, granted, was greatly lessened from the time before Whirl had become part of their relationship. Interfacing as a group had become more of a usual occurrence, whereas in the beginning two of them would interface while the other watched. This particular time, Tailgate had made the mistake of suggesting the two of them take him at the same time.

At present, Tailgate was pressed between Whirl and Cyclonus, clutching the purple mech’s chassis and his helm leaned back against Whirl’s as the two mechs thrusted into him out of sync. Tailgate was four overloads in and on his way to a fifth and they were  _ still  _ trying to see which of them could last longer. When they had begun, he assumed that he’d be a bit sore the morning after, but with how spread his thighs were and how stuffed he felt, he was sure of it.

Whirl’s claws found their way into Tailgate’s hip seams, pinching and pulling at the sensitive wires hidden beneath his plating. “Betcha’ can feel my spike rubbing up against yours through his protoform, huh Cyc?” His optic narrowed in what was meant to be a cocky grin. “You can hardly contain yourself, am I right?”

Cyclonus grunted and gave a particularly hard thrust, causing the mini to cry out, his voice scrambled with static. “Silence,” he growled at Whirl, claw tips pricking at the copter’s leg. 

The sharp digits pressing into his plating made him pull back a bit, inadvertently pulling a bit too hard at the wires he’d been toying with. The white mini whined and squirmed a little, resetting his vocalizer a few times before managing to speak.

“W-would you two- Ahn! Would you two quit t-trying to out-mech each other and just  _ overload  _ already?” he panted, his cooling vents cycled wide in an attempt to cool his overheated frame.

“Sure,” Whirl replied, and Tailgate felt relieved, however only momentarily. “Once Cyclonus does.” Cyclonus’ vents let out a sharp puff of air as if to say,  _ Yeah, right. _

Tailgate groaned and let his helm fall back against Whirl’s chassis again. After a moment, he came up with a possible solution. Though he found it utterly embarrassing to do, he knew his partners couldn’t resist him begging. He took a few moments to steel himself and focus on his charge before playing it up.

“Oh, Primus,” he moaned near Cyclonus’ audial. He knew that if one of them was to give in to his pleas, it would likely be Cyclonus to crumble first. “P-please, I can’t- Ah, Cyyyyc,” he ground his hips down into the mech’s thrusts. “You’re so big,” he accentuated with a quick clamp down on his spike, “Can feel you in my chassis,” he whined. He heard the quiet hitch of his vents as his powerful engine revved, sending tremors through their frames.  _ Just a bit more…  _ “Need you so bad, I want you to fill me up so much till I can’t take any more, oh please-!”

That seemed to be the tipping point for the larger mech. With a deep, final thrust he growled through his overload, hot transfluid filling his valve. Whirl peaked just moments after, apparently just barely managing to stave off his own overload, his fluids filling the mini’s aft. Tailgate clamped down on both spikes as he climaxed, the feeling of being overly stuffed pushing him over the edge.

He slumped strutless against Cyclonus, panting hard and feeling exhausted. He let out a soft whine as his partners pulled out of him, transfluid dribbling out and making a mess of the berth and his thighs. One of them (he wasn’t sure which; his optics had offlined of their own accord) wiped up the majority of the mess, carefully wiping his aft and valve before manually closing the panels. Cyclonus shifted Tailgate so his back was against his chassis and laid them on their sides, Whirl following suit as he laid to face the two of them. 

After a few moments, Whirl broke the silence. “That was fragging amazing,” he said, stretching a bit before laying an arm across Tailgate’s middle. 

Tailgate settled himself between the two of them. “It was pretty nice, but I wish you two weren’t so competitive. I already know I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” He grimaced at the thought of having patrol the next day, his hips and thighs already aching just at the notion.

As if reading his thoughts, Cyclonus ran his servo down Tailgate’s arm placatingly. “I will tell Ultra Magnus that you are unwell,” he said, which made the other relax a bit.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “Love you guys.” Just as he drifted into recharge, he could hear the quiet, “Love ya, too,” and the gentle press of lip plates to the top of his helm.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Jfc why am I a filthy sinner~~


End file.
